Wild and Wary
by Mrs-N-Uzumaki
Summary: Shawn realised he was in over his head when he got involved in a case with the Mexican Mafia. Although in his defence it didn't start out that way and now he was being chased by a henchman that could very well compete with The Rock. Side-note: he owed his dad a new truck...and Lassie some peanut butter.


**A/N:** Spent the whole week marathoning Fast  & Furious and felt inspired to write a Psych fic after. Don't worry if you haven't seen any of the films, the story will still make sense. Takes place between seasons 4 and 5.

HUGE THANKS TO **MEGALEGU** FOR HELPING ME THROUGHOUT! Without her I would've never even thought about writing this.

This story is available on **Psychfic** under the same username.

 **Disclaimer:** If I did season 5 wouldn't have turned out the way it did.

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 **Wild and Wary**

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"So not that I don't enjoy channelling Lucas Black, but I don't exactly want to drift into my own death!"

" _Mr Spence_ -" Chief started on the other line, but Shawn didn't give her the chance to finish.

"Hang on a second, Chief, I'm about to do some serious DK-ing!" With one hand on the wheel Shawn used his other to grab a hold of his green iPhone, held by his shoulder and ear, and place it on his dashboard.

 _I hope this works with my dad's truck_ , he thought before slamming both feet onto the break and frantically manoeuvring the wheel so that he would turn in the corner. His father's truck, the boat that it was, didn't move as far as he would wanted it to, but it still spun out of the way, much like he imagined the cars to in the _Fast & Furious_ films. He exhaled a breath in relief but poked his head out of the driver's side window only to realise the wheels moved so quickly and with such strength that smoke emerged. It was with sudden clarity that Shawn remembered he was driving his father's car. His very OLD car. There was no way it would be able to drive now. He had just ruined the tires; _mental note: actually mow Dad's lawn this time…if I make it out alive_.

" _Mr Spencer, are you still there?_ " he heard and suddenly remembered he was on the phone. Shawn quickly scrambled to find it after it slid from his dashboard and fell under his seat. _"What's going on? Mr Spencer?_ "

Shawn's hand travelled downwards, fingers patting carpet until they wrapped around something solid.

 _Yahtzee_ , he thought as he grabbed the device and brought it back up to his ear. "I'm still here. Listen-" Shawn's gaze immediately shot towards the window and much to his horror spotted one of Javier's monster cars careening towards him.

"Crap," he said before the car violently collided with his.

It was then that he felt it in stages, like the jump-cuts of a horror film. The moment he was hit, the way his father's truck overturned and rolled once, twice, three times (he didn't keep count after as he focused solely on keeping his neck from snapping like a twig), and then finally landing upturned. It felt like he could not hear anything - almost as if his world had gone blissfully silent. The Chief's voice was no longer there, realising that his phone was probably crushed during the crash. Damn it. That was his third phone this month. The last one he'd had to replace because it had been...unexpectedly doused in peanut butter; _mental note numero dos: remind Lassie to buy more peanut butter_.

He heard a car door slam nearby and in a panic, Shawn, with all the strength he could give, pushed the door beside him. He fell onto the ground in an unceremonious heap.

Shawn felt trickles of blood coursing down his face and into his mouth, the coppery taste almost making him gag. There was another smell - petrol. It was making his stomach turn. He let out a pain-filled breath and watched the henchman's feet nearing him. He was coming closer but Shawn's father's truck and the henchman's car had a wide berth between them. Shawn took that to mean that he must have travelled a great distance when the truck flipped over. It was a true marvel he was still alive after that.

The sound of a gun cocking snapped him out of his thoughts. The gun's aim shifted towards a thin stream of petrol.

Panic engulfed his senses. If he didn't get the fuck out of the car he would turn into Drift-Kebab.

Shawn forced his body to cooperate as he began to half-crawl his way out of the truck, not looking back at the henchman. He feared he would not get out of this if he looked back. Evidently that didn't matter.

A trigger was pulled and the echoing noise was all he heard before a wave of heat engulfed him and pulled his mind into darkness.

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 **A/N:** Review please! More to come when I get to it. And just so you know, DK is a reference to the Tokyo Drift film, it stands for Drift King.


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